The War and the End
by skyisthelimit
Summary: After Singing includes epilogue . Yes, the Nameless One is gone, but what of Enkir? There is work yet to be done. Will Annar become harmonious again? Will the Light really regain its strength? How many battles will there be before the End? MxC


**I wrote this because the ending of the Singing left me begging for more, so this takes place after the last chapter, and will eventually include the Epilogue of the Singing.  
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**I hope you like it!**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own. I'm not even Australian!**

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The dull wind swept over the land. The reeds swayed and the water rippled. It was an ugly sort of area – a marsh. The kind where tiny mosquitoes would harass any trespasser, and wet, muddy dirt would cake to any shoes. Yet, for all its lack of appeal, there was a sort of peace on the land. The land seemed elated, and the air seemed bright. Nothing other than the breeze disturbed the setting. There was entire stillness; all living things remained quiet and unmoving, just appreciating the wholeness of the land around them.

This peculiar setting was not just restrained to the marsh. In all the Seven Kingdoms and Annar, the inhabitants of the land felt this new harmony in the world. Farmers, doing their springtime sowing, suddenly dropped their plows and their hoes and turned their faces skyward, closing their eyes and taking a deep breath to taste the sweet air. They knew that something had become right in the world, and did not fight it. Elsewhere, in the famous Schools for knowing, Bards had a better idea of what was happening. They too stilled in a solemn elation, placing their hands on their hearts and blessing the Light. Even the corrupted Bards jumped up, frozen in shock, not sure whether to be cheerful or frightened.

And the Bards of Darkness, the Hulls, simply blew away with the wind in wisps of smoke.

There was this moment of silence and mixed feelings. There was this moment of stillness.

Then all broke out.

Pure schools started cheering and weeping in relief, shouting and singing. Other Bards looked to each other in confusion, murmuring and demanding to know what had happened.

Dark creatures – dogsoldiers and other awful creatures – halted any attack they might have been doing, whined and whimpered, and immediately retreated.

Everything was in movement.

And, back in the marsh, three figures and two horses bounded across the land, not even taking care to watch where the placed their feet. All they were focused on were two other figures in the center of the wetland, one lying limp on the ground, cradled by another hunched figure.

Cadvan, Saliman, Hekibel, Darsor, and Keru ran frantically towards the two children of the House of Karn.

Cadvan face was drawn of all color. He and his friends had too felt the warming of his heart during that moment of silence, and at first he was consumed by happiness. _It was done. Maerad had succeeded_.

But as soon as that thought had passed through his mind, worry immediately became his primary emotion, and he took off toward the swamp, his companions following a little behind.

As Maerad and Hem came into view, Cadvan became more and more afraid. The one lying motionlessly was Maerad, he was sure, and Hem was hunched over her. Cadvan feared the worse.

After what seemed like ages, he and the others finally reached the two Pellinor siblings, Cadvan absolutely panting for breath. He fell to his knees to scrutinize his student, friend, and love, praying with all his might that she still breathed.

For a moment, all he saw was Maerad, who was pale and had closed eyes, looking…dead. In that moment, Cadvan was consumed with grief and pain, so much he thought he would die as well. And in that moment, he would have welcomed death.

But then Maerad's beautiful blue eyes opened to stare into his face. "Cadvan," she breathed.

The air rushed from Cadvan's lungs as he laughing in relief. He had never felt such relief, and such happiness. He let those feelings course through him and break any walls of reserve he might have put up. Cadvan pulled Maerad from her brother's grasp to gather her into his own arms, and placed his lips on every inch of her face he could manage, still laughing.

Before he could realize and regret what he had begun, he felt Maerad wrap her arms around his neck and direct his lips to her own, before pressing her face in and locking her grasp.

After a moment of shock, he kissed back just as passionately, tightening his own hold on her body, and closed his eyes, allowing himself just to drown in his happiness and love. He didn't think of what this might mean, or what would happen next. He paid no attention to his friends, who had tactfully turned away to focus their relief on Hem.

Maerad herself though she might faint from her own happiness. She wondered why she never realized how much she loved Cadvan until recently. Perhaps she had cowered from the thought of love after Dernhil, or perhaps her Elemental love for Arkan had masked her human feelings for Cadvan. Either way, she couldn't care less then, as her lips moved against Cadvan's, her body humming in happiness. She, too, could laugh from elation, but her mouth had other business to attend to.

When their lungs screamed for air, they broke apart to take a few breaths, but only to bring their lips back together. This time, the kissed less frantically, taking their time to savor each other's sweetness, and to gently convey their love into it. Maerad moved her hands up to tangle her fingers in his dark hair, and Cadvan stroked her face with one hand.

Finally, when they were satisfied for the moment, they pulled away, allowing space between their bodies. They breathed heavily for a moment, before remembering their company, who had long since given up on keeping their gazes diverted.

Hem was a beet red, his face tilted toward the ground. Saliman and Hekibel were smiling, and Saliman winked.

The couple colored, looking slightly ashamed.

But then Hekibel began to laugh, her sweet voice filling the air. Soon, everyone joined, even Hem. No words were spoken. They merely laughed, letting loose their relief, elation, and love all into one sound, letting it carry across the land.

_It was over_.

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After they laughed all they could, the five friends unanimously decided it would be best to travel back to Illain. They picked themselves up and started on the roads with smiles. Their joy had not dissipated, and their travels back were bereft of the worry that usually came with being on the roads.

Again, Hem rode Keru, Saliman and Hekibel on their own horse, and Maerad and Cadvan on Darsor. This time, Maerad sat in front of Cadvan, his arms reached around her to loosely hold the reigns – Darsor knew where to go.

The couple had kept physical contact with each other since their reunion in the marshes, only breaking their connection for a few seconds to mount the lord horse. Maerad sank back into Cadvan's arms, feeling completely content, though utterly spent. Her lips still tingled, and cheeks were flushed, but she did not speak. She knew she would have to eventually; she and Cadvan had much to discuss. But it could wait for later. She was in no hurry. Nor was she worried – for the first time she did not dread a serious conversation. She was sure of her feelings, and by the Light she would be clear about them. Cadvan wouldn't rebuild those walls again, not after that kiss. Her stubbornness would make sure of that.

Cadvan himself was at peace. He was almost sure Maerad did return his feelings, and he had never been happier in his life. With Maerad in his arms, he did not allow himself to feel any doubts or shadows. He simply relished her touch, resting his chin on her head.

The student and the teacher weren't the only couple at a crucial point. During their travel down the road, Hekibel nervously played with her fingers. In front of her and Saliman, she could see the blissful couple, and while part of heart was happy for the couple, she couldn't help but worry about her own love story. She glanced up at Saliman's head in front of her. He seemed so handsome to her, even if all she could see was the back of his head. She tightened her hold around his waist and pressed her face to his back, sighing. Saliman turned his head back toward her, grinning. She smiled shyly back, and sighed again. Hekibel was unsure of what to do. The dark days were behind, but now she did not know how to step forward. Little did she know she wouldn't have to.

Hem, alone, knew he should feel like an awkward fifth wheel. However, riding behind the two couples, he couldn't help but smile. Though embarrassed, he knew they all deserved to love and be loved. He did feel a slight page of loneliness in his heart, and more than ever, he wished for Irc, to share his happiness at his success. He recalled back, when he had almost crumbled under the oppressing pressure that tried to stop him and his sister when he had first struck the tuning fork. But somehow, he had managed, and did not drop the fork. The Singing took place, and the Nameless One was destroyed. He had never felt more proud of himself, but he also wanted someone to be proud of him too. Hem sighed and shrugged. Eventually, Irc would come back. He was sure of that.

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They had traveled all day, and had come to a Bard home to camp for the night. Building a fire, the five friends chatted aimlessly while the horses grazed, their joy not having quite dissipated yet. They joked about things the day before they wouldn't have dared to.

"Now, look here, we must find a new title for our Maerad here," said Saliman.

Maerad blushed, giggling.

"Ah yes. Maerad can be just the Maiden of Innail no longer," agreed Cadvan, his grasp on her hand still firm.

"Maiden of Innail? Since when?" inquired Saliman.

"Since she unmade the Landrost," smiled Cadvan, "and nearly scared the Lights out of her humble servant here."

"He's exaggerating," stated Maerad.

"No, it's true," Cadvan said, "and then she goes and scares me to death again. Thus, it is time for a new title."

"What about, the Singing Warrior Maiden of Annar?" Hekibel smiled, mischief in her eyes.

"What? Warr—" Maerad tried to interject.

"Ah yes, I think that would suit her for the most part," Saliman agreed. "Singing? Yes. Warrior? Yes…"

"Maiden? I'm not as sure," put in Cadvan. More laughter sounded as Maerad playfully smacked her mentor's arm.

"If I'm to be subjected to this, I shall not go down alone," Maerad defended herself. She turned to face Hem, who was on the verge of sleep. "Hem here must have as glorious a title as me." The boy looked up, stunned.

"Oh, yes, we can't forget about Hem. His own title as the Bird General is quite old. What shall we call him now?" said Saliman cheerfully.

And in this way, it continued. Smiles and jokes were passed, while the flames threw flickering orange lights across the campers' faces.

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Maerad offered to take the first watch, jesting, "Don't think for a minute I hadn't realized what you all were doing, trying to steal all the responsibility," referring to the time when the group was too afraid to leave Maerad alone.

As she stared at the moon, she allowed herself to seriously think of all that had happened. She had succeeded. She had cast down the Nameless one, and had freed the Treesong. Cadvan had kissed her. Everyone was fine. More than fine. But for all this happiness, in a deep corner of her heart, she felt a pang of loss. She no longer felt the presence of the power or magic she had before. When the Elidhu were released and gone, she felt her own Elemental powers go with them, and she feared it took her Bard powers as well. She felt as if she had lost an important part of herself, and what was left was a completely different Maerad. She didn't know what to make of herself, and wanted to mourn her loss.

Before she could become completely downcast, however, she felt rather than saw a figure come sit beside her.

"Are your thoughts heavy?" Cadvan asked, turning to look at the moon as well.

"No," she lied. _Today is supposed to be a happy occasion_, she told herself firmly, _I'll only feel happiness today_. "Shocked, maybe. It's hard to come to terms with. But it is real, right? He is really gone, isn't he?"

"Yes, I'm certain. Now every being indeed has a Name," he smiled, turning to face her. Her profile was outlined by the moonlight, and her dark hair looked blacker than the night. He gently took brushed it back and tucked it behind her ear. "You look beautiful in the moonlight. I never really told you that."

She turned, too, smiling. "Are you going to tell me I look like Ardina again?"

"You look like you, Maerad of Pellinor," he stated firmly. "The main reason I said that on the _Owl _was because, at the time, I was unwilling to acknowledge that my feelings for you were deeper than friendship."

She blushed. Maerad knew that now was the time to talk. "Cadvan, we need to be clear."

"Of course," he agreed, "I want no misunderstandings between the two of us, ever. Whether we are friends or lovers." Her face darkened even more.

"I probably should have told you of my feelings earlier. I want to say I kept myself back because I did not believe it was the right time, but that would be a lie. I was a coward, really. Afraid that you did not feel the same way, and it would drive a larger wedge between us," Cadvan said.

"You weren't being a coward. I wasn't exactly in the best state of mind to be confessing to. And besides, part of it was my own fault. Apparently I was as blind as a bat, to you and to my own heart," she reassured.

Cadvan questioned her with his eyes. Here, Maerad stuttered. "I hadn't even considered… I mean, I didn't think…well…that it was possible for you to feel _that way_ about me. Not until Hekibel had mentioned…and then I think that was when I….but I still…" Maerad sighed. She knew she wasn't making sense.

Cadvan gently stroked her hand. "I don't think either of us have to explain ourselves, at least when talking of the past."

They sat in silence for a time, feeling no more need for words.

Finally, there was one more matter Cadvan had to settle. "Maerad, what was happening with you? Back before the Singing?"

Maerad sighed, knowing Cadvan deserved an explanation. So she recounted, slowly, everything. How things changed after she fully tapped into her Elemental powers, and how the Dead had haunted her after that. She told of how time layered over her eyes in different veils, creating illusions that had been real, but weren't. She described the pain and grief by the Usk, and the cries for revenge. She tried her best to relay the vastness that had belittled herself so much, pulling her irresistibly away from the now.

She finished her tale with when the dead at accounted themselves. By this time she had tears in her eyes. She spoke to the ground. "I saw everyone, Cadvan. They all lined up in front of me. Everyone whose life was cut by the Nameless One. I saw Dernhil again, and Dharin. I even saw Ilar. And I was forgiven by all. Oh Cadvan, you have no idea how weightless I felt after that. It didn't matter that I was about to face the Nameless One himself. The weight of the Dead had been lifted off me." Maerad lifted her face, the tears glistening down her cheeks, her mouth turned up into a smile.

Cadvan, who had been silent the entire time, letting her go on uninterrupted, pulled her to him. He wrapped his arms around her and she buried her face into his shoulder, inhaling his spicy scent. They sat like that for a time, their forms outlined by the moonlight.

Finally, when Maerad had composed herself, she lift her face up, looking into Cadvan's eyes that were full of compassion and sympathy. Slowly, they brought their lips together and kissed.

When they broke apart, Cadvan whispered in a low voice, "I love you, Maerad of Pellinor."

Maerad turned her lips into a breathtaking smile, her eyes sparkling. "As I love you, Cadvan of Lirigon."

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When morning broke, the group set out again. The day seemed bright, but in the distance, they could see gray clouds in the distance. They were dark and promised much thunder and lightning.

"As much as it pains me to say this, it is probably in our best interest to seek an inn in Ettinor. We are close enough to reach it before nightfall, and hopefully before those storm clouds reach us," said Cadvan.

Maerad sighed.

Saliman looked at him gravely. "Is it absolutely necessary? The Nameless One may be gone, but Enkir still wages a civil war. There is no doubt that Ettinor sides with him. Maerad, Cadvan, you are both still fugitives from Norloch. Turbansk is dead, and, as far as I'm concerned, cast out of their alliance. We know for a fact that they housed the Black Army at one point. While all Hulls may be gone, there are still many corrupt Bards who are, for the moment, safe from justice within that School."

"We must seek shelter. I can feel it in my bones. The storm will be very intense. It is not something we can afford to camp through, not if there is shelter available," Cadvan said firmly. "We will take the necessary precautions, and then some."

"I'm not being your mute son again, or any male for that matter," said Maerad firmly, remembering with distaste the last time she had deal with private matters in the likeness of a boy.

Saliman, despite the seriousness of what they were about to do, quirked an eyebrow with amusement.

Cadvan smiled as well. "That's fine. Hm, we have such a big party though…we should probably split into two groups."

Saliman frowned, "I don't think we should be separated."

"No, no. I meant two different stories for each sub-party. I'll be a cobbler again. Maerad can be my antisocial wife and Hem our docile son," assured Cadvan. Maerad colored a little, though Hem seemed to think nothing of it. "We'll say we're traveling to visit relatives in Desor. Saliman?"

"I suppose Hekibel and I might be a tailor couple looking for work," Saliman pondered. Hekibel turned slightly red as well. "We'll have to be extremely careful. I'm still not comfortable with this."

"Nor I, my friend, nor I," agreed Cadvan. "Hem, I hear from Saliman that you are quite good at the semblance spell. Would you do one for yourself now? Make yourself look poor, rugged, and give yourself no physical features that are similar to your own." Hem nodded and concentrated for a minute, before turning himself into an idiot-looking boy with blonde hair, brown eyes, and too many freckles.

"Perfect," praised Cadvan. He then worked the spell on himself and Maerad, as Saliman did the same with him and Hekibel.

"We'll go first. Come about five to ten minutes later, and through a different street, if you can," said Cadvan, "We'll stay in the Brown Duck inn," Maerad recognized the name of the place they had last stayed at in Ettinor with surprise, "May the Light protect you."

"You as well," said Saliman.

When Cadvan, Maerad, and Hem entered Ettinor Fesse, the storm was almost upon them. They quickly rode to the inn. It was still run by Mr. Dringhold, and Maerad was pleased to see him, though she gave no hint of recognition. _After all,_ she reminded herself, _Cadvan erased the memory._

Maerad again relished the bath, even if it was cold. She longed for a hot, perfumed bath, though, more than anything. She shivered as she stepped out of the water, and dressed quickly. After, she went to the taproom, where Cadvan and Hem sat, eating a bit of supper. Apparently, while she was bathing, Saliman and Hekibel arrived, drenched, and were at the moment drying themselves.

Maerad sat and began her meal as well, and after a moment, Saliman and Hekibel entered. The two groups made their plausible act of bumping into each other, introducing themselves, and started to discuss general conditions and matters of the area. Maerad, Hem, and Hekibel spoke as little as possible, leaving the talk and active acting to Saliman and Cadvan.

They hadn't settled for long, however, when a cloaked person entered the inn.

All but Hekibel stiffened. They knew it was a Bard. An Ettinor bard, as they could tell from the brooch the figure wore.

Cadvan and Saliman, however, had merely paused their conversation for the briefest moment, before continuing like nothing had happened. Maerad, however, was very conscience of the figure, who had lurked through the room to sit by table in the corner.

"Welcome, traveler," said Mr. Dringhold gruffly, an air of nervousness around him. Maerad was sharply reminded of how the Bards of Ettinor treated the townsfolk. She assumed this Bard would not veer from this precedent. She wasn't disappointed.

"Traveler, you say? Is that anyway to address a Bard?" said the cloaked character with icy disdain. He (or she. Maerad couldn't tell) then lowered his hood to reveal his face.

Maerad gasped. Helgar of Ettinor glared frostily at the innkeeper.

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**A/N: And there you have it! Not much in this chapter, I know. It was mostly a transition between the end of the Singing and my story.**

**I would greatly appreciate reviews as well :)  
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